Episode Six: Echo of the Fractured Past

 Manifest: A Shattered Future

Episode Six: Echo of the Fractured Past

 

“Adder! What are you doing?” Elena asked with an entertained smile.

Without tilting his head, Adder lifted his index finger to his lips as he kept his ear against the laboratory wall. Curiosity got the best of Elena, so she set her ear against the same wall. She could not hear anything other than an electrical hum from another room. She showed her partner a quizzical look, but Adder shook his head and continued listening to sounds elsewhere in the building. After a few seconds, he stood upright and excitedly asked, “Did you hear that?”

Elena shook her head quickly, but Adder smiled mischievously and motioned toward the door. He explained, “It’s Ockham and Annabel! They’re definitely making out; I’m certain of it. And here they thought they could get one over on ol’ Adder Neonia, but that’s not happening! Sure they’re the star scientists of our lab, but I’m the star detective. And I think our coworkers are conducting an exploration that isn’t covered by our grant… if you catch my drift!”

“Oh my god can we go check? Please? They’re so cute together, but I really really want to catch them. They’ll never live it down,” Elena said with a giggle.

Adder nodded excitedly and opened the door to their laboratory, letting her leave first. As they quickly made their way toward the astrophysics lab, Adder accelerated and peeked his head into the electrical engineering lab. He yelled into the room, “Hey, Silvia! Altair! We’re about to go spoil Ockham’s fun, if you know what I mean! Want to come with us?”

But there was no response. Elena peeked her head into the doorway right beside Adder, but a quick scan of the empty lab did not show anything of interest. Disassembled circuits and solenoids scattered the largest workbench, but Altair sat alone in the shadows with a series of notes spread out on the counter. He had a calculator by his right hand and an open textbook by his left, but he continued scribbling equations onto the page without paying any attention to the interlopers. Elena narrowed her eyes and peered through the fluorescent lighting; she recognized his differential equation as one that involved both capacitors and inductors.

“Yeah, I think I’d rather be here. Silvia’s already headed that way,” Altair answered without glancing up from his equation.

Elena tilted her head, wondering why Silvia would have already been on the way, but Adder recommenced his journey before she could ask. She curiously followed Adder toward the astrophysics lab, but she struggled to keep up; her prosthetic leg kept dragging on the linoleum floor. But when Adder saw her trying to catch up, he accelerated and quickly rushed through the doors to Ockham’s lab. Elena scratched her head, wondering why Adder had not held the door open for her as he had in the past, but she continued after him.

When Elena finally reached the door and pulled herself inside, her four friends loudly shouted together, “Happy birthday!”

Elena widened her eyes in shock as Ockham and Silvia cheered and sounded noisemakers. Adder threw handfuls of confetti into the air, and Elena watched with a bright smile as it rained down around her. Annabel shouted gleefully in the background as she carried a chocolate cake with flaming candles. Adder and Elena hungrily watched Annabel approach her friends with the cake, and after she set it down on the counter, she warmly embraced Elena.

“I hope your birthday is every bit as beautiful as you! I baked you this cake, and I really hope you like it,” Annabel said sweetly to her friend.

Elena smiled and returned her embrace as Ockham reached into a cabinet for napkins and paper plates. Silvia placed a cone-shaped hat on her head before doing the same for Adder and Annabel. Elena opened her mouth and tried to express her heartfelt thanks, but tears and a breathy sob surfaced instead. She quickly fought to stifle her cry, but the damage had been done; her friends quickly noticed her emotional reaction.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I don’t mean to cry, it’s just… no one’s ever made this big of a deal out of my birthday before. Not friends, not family, certainly not coworkers. You guys are so sweet! My favorite people in the world! I can’t believe you did this,” Elena confessed between breathy sobs.

As she fought to clear the tears from her eyes, Elena caught a glimpse of the notes which covered the nearby counter. While she recognized some relativity equations and a formulation of the universe’s expansion, she noticed a series of wave equations with matrices that she could not decipher. But when she smelled the delicious aroma of Annabel’s chocolate cake, Elena quelled her curiosity and let her hunger take hold. While Annabel and Ockham searched the cabinets for plastic knives, Elena turned toward Adder and smiled shyly.

“You really knew exactly how to lure me here, didn’t you?” Elena asked with a grin.

Adder answered, “Of course I did! Don’t act surprised; I know you better than anyone! We planned this whole thing weeks ago. It was worth it for that smile!”

Elena opened her mouth in protest, but Annabel interrupted and said, “Before you blow out the candles, don’t forget to make a wish!”

Elena nodded excitedly and closed her eyes in contemplation. After selecting her wish, she smiled and took a deep breath. She pursed her plump lips and blew out air with all her strength.

But when Elena opened her eyes to see if she succeeded, she saw the dim daylight of a spacious room filled with scores of wounded people. She saw familiar faces of nurses and doctors shuffling between their patients, but their expressions could not hide their emotions. They had more patients than ever before, hardly any supplies with which to save them, and nowhere else to run if the Adriatic Empire came to attack again. Elena nervously lifted her gaze and saw the shape of someone sitting at the foot of her bed.

Still emerging from the dream she had witnessed, Elena forced herself to remember the disastrous state of the city. The warm faces in her dream had no basis in reality, nor did any building contain the machinery she had seen. She shuddered as she considered the possibility that Romulo’s death had been just another dream, but when she sat upright and saw Altair’s face, she let out a quiet sigh. Altair noticed her disappointment, but he did not turn his gaze toward her.

“I think you were in my dream. I didn’t really see your face, but they said your name,” Elena muttered.

Altair nodded disinterestedly and answered, “They said my name repeatedly here. I think that may have percolated into your dream. Believe me; there’s no running from this reality.”

Elena perked up and narrowed her brown eyes, studying Altair as he stared out over the makeshift hospital. While Romulo would have been rushing to help anyone he could, Altair stared at the patients with something in between apathy and disgust. The skin on his left arm reflected the fluorescent light with a shimmer, revealing a different texture than the dark skin on the rest of his body. A touch of sweat settled on his short hair. A pair of bruises speckled his sharp chin.

“I’m so sorry. I know he was your friend; I know you loved him too. Romulo died trying to protect me, but I won’t let it be in vain. I’ll find Adder. I’ll make him pay,” Elena muttered with her tired voice.

But Altair shook his head and said, “That would be a waste of our resources. As much as you want to fight back, you must know that you don’t have the skill to avenge him. At least not yet. Don’t let your animosity get you killed. Don’t let your emotions rob this world of its only chance for freedom.”

“Only chance for freedom…? That doesn’t make sense. That makes no sense. I can’t even stand upright on my own; I lost my leg chasing Adder. Sorry. I can’t save anyone, but I don’t need my leg to fight back. I can kill Adder if I get close enough. I just can’t run away afterward,” Elena replied.

“If I can survive long enough, you’ll one day come to see your missing limb as an advantage; I guarantee that. Mine’s the only reason I managed to save you in the first place… or don’t you remember?” Altair asked.

Elena recollected the time she spent hobbling through the rain, pushing her broken body past its limit just to find her friend. She remembered the horror of seeing Romulo’s head placed upon a pike for all the city to see, taunting the civilians with the death of their last hope. But when she had fallen to the cobblestone ground on her bruised forearms, she fell unconscious but stayed lucid enough to retain a fraction of her surroundings. Adder Neonia had emerged from a nearby alley, knowing his trap would lure her back into his grasp. But before the heartless enemy could come close enough to grab her, Altair appeared and hoisted her into his strong arms.

“How did you manage to save me?” asked Elena.

Altair smirked with pride and answered, “It’s a simple arithmetic; no one runs faster than I can. Besides, I already told you that there are advantages to a replacement limb.”

Elena glanced again at the unusual material on Altair’s arm, but Altair continued, “I got Adder to admit something before I ran away. He said that he doubted his instinct at first, but one of his Rampagers detected something special about you. It seems you’re more permanent than the entities we manifest, but you yourself are essentially a Rampager. You are an entity conjured from a different reality, just like all the sorcerers we summon. I believe it’s your permanence that has him desperate to catch you.”

Although Elena found herself skeptical of this conclusion, she tilted her head and asked, “Why would that matter? I can’t cast spells. I can’t do anything he can’t.”

“I cannot say with certainty, but the calculation seems simple enough to me. In one way or another, you are not from this reality. This world has suffered from the Adriatic Empire for decades, and none of us could stop them. That means if anyone can, then it has to be you. Call it process of elimination or even Occam’s Razor, but Adder’s not the only one who sees your potential. To be honest, I never saw it myself, but Romulo asked me to protect you if anything ever happened to him. You were my best friend’s last wish, so I have no choice but to believe that there’s a good reason. I owe him that much,” explained Altair.

“I get it. I think I get it. I just don’t want you to misplace your hope. I don’t feel like I can save anyone right now; all I can do is make him pay. Can we… get out of here? I don’t care if there’s nowhere to go,” Elena muttered.

Altair nodded and then passed her a cane which lay beside the cot on the floor. After Elena grabbed hold, she pushed herself upright with a pained grunt and balanced a portion of her weight on her cane. Despite the pain shooting through her overworked leg, Elena managed to slowly push herself into motion. Altair wordlessly led her toward the nearest exit of the makeshift hospital, but Elena paused before she wandered too far from her cot. As she used her right hand to support her weight with the cane, she felt along her jacket to make sure she still had her belongings. She felt a total of four monoliths in her pockets, but her spell cards were left in a state of disarray. She glanced at them briefly and saw them shuffled without order. Some belonged to Romulo, and others had been with her since she first arrived on shore. Some faced upward while others faced down. She peered one last time at the mattress to ensure that she had not left anything, and then she stepped into the gloomy daylight.

As Elena and Altair stepped slowly through the crowded urban camp, Elena confessed, “I woke up three times in the night, and every time I prayed that my memory was just a bad dream. A bad dream and nothing more. That’s what he always thought, right? That all my memories were just dreams of a different world.”

“But as lovely as that would be, I think you’ll find that reality is rarely ever that convenient. The enemy knew their targets, and they struck with all they had. They scoured my home and killed our friend; they’ve overtaken this city. Between the monks and the few soldiers we have left, this is the last part of the city they haven’t occupied. That isn’t a dream; it’s just a shitty reality,” Altair answered.

As she stared upon scores of forlorn faces, Elena said, “All of my memories felt like a lie whispered by a fantasy of peace, or maybe… I just never understood the madness of a world at war. He showed me this world, and he was all I had to hold onto.”

“As great a man as he was, Romulo had an upper limit. He’s one of the strongest conjurors I’ve ever known, but he knew all along that he would never be the man to save our dying world. I think that was why he was adamant that I save you; we don’t yet know your limits. As irrational as it may seem, it’s always smarter to pick a tenuous chance over certain failure. Try to remember that,” explained Altair.

Elena nodded nervously and then gazed across the crowd. Families and friends huddled together, but they hardly spoke any words. Soldiers and monks ] stood protectively at the edge of the camp, protecting both the citizens and the monastery at the center of it all. Even from a distance, Elena could see that the monks wore gray clothes and stood intrepidly as protectors, but the same could not be said of the soldiers. She noticed that even Altair showed signs of anxiety; his shaky grimace widened as he stared at the hopeless crowd.

“How did everyone get here in just a single night?” Elena asked.

Altair shook his head and said, “That’s the thing; you weren’t out for just one night. You kept waking up and falling back asleep, almost like you’re hiding from the world, choosing bright reverie over a dreary reality. Romulo’s death really took a lot out of you.”

“…I didn’t know that. I had no idea! I think I get it then, why you seem so nervous. You’re afraid all your hopes are pinned on someone too weak to face reality,” she muttered.

“I couldn’t have put it better myself; that is precisely what I’m afraid of. I know it must seem impersonal-”

But Elena interrupted and said, “No, no, I get it, I get it. Your city has fallen, you’re at war, and your enemy has taken everything they want. Your last chance didn’t wake up for days. Well… that changes now. Please tell me, Altair, what do I have to do to become stronger?”

A faint smile interrupted Altair’s grim expression, but it quickly faded as he walked into the crowd. He waved his hand so that Elena would follow him, so she carefully stepped between people. Her leg ached already from the movement, but she placed her cane very carefully so that she would not mistakenly trip herself. Altair guided her away from the makeshift hospital and toward the monastery. Its white walls contrasted with the grayness of the overcast sky, and people leaned against its pillars without anything better to do. A picnic table sat outside the monastery, but Elena noticed wooden lines on the ground, indicating that the table had been dragged a short distance to get here.

“Why are we stopping here?” asked Elena.

“Because you aren’t a good enough conjuror to even bother learning from the monks yet. I intend to help change that. You can consider yourself a soldier-in-training, if you like,” Altair answered.

“Fine, fine, but don’t get me wrong. I’m not a soldier. I’m not doing this to defend the city; I’m not even doing this for myself. This is about revenge. Whether or not I ever knew Adder Neonia, I will be the one to kill him,” Elena declared.

Altair tilted his head with intrigue, but then he took a deep breath and shook his head. He offered his left arm and partially crouched, allowing Elena the perfect chance to grab on and lower herself onto the bench. Once she stabilized herself, she set her spell cards and her monoliths onto the picnic table. Altair sat down beside her and sifted through her cards, immediately recognizing many of Romulo’s favorite spells. He examined the cards in quiet contemplation.

After a short while, Altair said, “You have an interesting collection of cards, that’s for sure. They’re pretty incohesive; some are downright bad. It almost makes me wish I hadn’t given away most of my cards to other soldiers, but what’s done is done. It’s not that they don’t work together; it’s just that the way I’ve seen you play doesn’t work toward anything.”

“I wanted to ask. I’ve been meaning to ask. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you have a really high opinion of yourself. It’s pretty annoying. Why do you need to find someone else to fight if you’re so good?” Elena asked with a mischievous smile.

“Just call it a consequence of the one fight I managed to lose. The man I fought was an absolute monster; he was the only one who could ever overcome me in a fair match. As I’m sure you’ve figured out, this was no friendly match between competitors. His sorcerer destroyed my arm and almost took my life; it’s practically a miracle that I managed to survive,” Altair explained.

Elena widened her eyes and stared at his left arm, noticing that its sleek material merely resembled his dark skin; it was an altogether different substance. Upon closer inspection, Elena noticed electric signals flashing deep inside the prosthetic.

“I hope this doesn’t sound mean. I don’t mean this to sound mean. But if you’re basically undefeated, then why was Romulo considered this city’s strongest conjuror?” Elena asked.

Altair rolled his eyes and answered, “It’s because you didn’t let me finish explaining. I can still conjure the occasional sorcerer, but I’m physically limited from participating in a full-scale showdown. You’ll see what I mean in time; for now you only need to know that I cannot fight at full power. I probably never will again, but even that is more than enough to overcome weak conjurors. In the meantime, I think it’s best that we discuss strategy. Tell me, Elena. What do you know about the different-colored monoliths?”

“Well… it’s a little hard to say for sure. I mean I know they’re limited, like I can only use a blue monolith to make my Underwater Illusionist. I can’t do that with another color, but I could use it to make a different sorcerer instead. I just have to pick carefully. Once I pick, I can’t pick again. And it takes so long to recharge the monolith that I’d be dead before I ever get the chance,” Elena answered.

Altair nodded slowly as he let out a quiet sigh, and then he said, “You’re right, but those are only the basics. Anyone who’s ever watched a conjuror could tell you that. Think about blue sorcerers in general. What have you noticed?”

Elena paused for a moment and closed her eyes, forcing her memory to envision the blue-monolith sorcerers she had seen in the past. Her Underwater Illusionist fought like a submarine, striking and retreating before it could take damage. Romulo had often used Ice Crystal Barricade, a defensive sorcerer who protected everything behind it. He had also used Last of the Valkyries once, another high-health sorcerer that worked to lock the opponent. However, Illano had used a Mage of Hidden Secrets which took four strong hits to knock down.

“I think… they’re very defensive, right? Like they protect your operation! I know Romulo had a couple he liked, but mine… seems like I usually make my Underwater Illusionist. I like that one,” Elena answered.

“I saw you use it against Romulo, and I must confess it functions nicely. Romulo had a couple decent sorcerers, and you’re right. A blue sorcerer gives structure to your entire operation. I’ve heard it said that patterns appear even in chaos; even randomness itself has some structure. Physically speaking, blue sorcerers have nothing in common; they do not even seem to come from the same reality. That said, they all serve a similar function in battle. They stand on a scale between a fortress and a tank; they serve to defend themselves and you, often dealing a heavy hit in the meantime. Some people use them as just another layer of support, others use them as a resilient weapon. I see merits to both strategies. Is that consistent with everything you’ve seen?” Altair asked.

Elena nodded enthusiastically and murmured with agreement, remembering the time she relied wholly on her Underwater Illusionist to combat the Princess of Swirling Cinders. It fought fiercely and withstood many strikes to overcome the enemy.

“Which monolith is the most important?” asked Elena.

Without wasting a moment, Altair answered, “Black sorcerers are generally the most dangerous. Conjurors compel them to ruthlessly dismantle their enemies’ defenses. They hit hard. In the end, a black sorcerer is often the last one standing in a showdown between conjurors. It’s usually the last one you manifest, when you’re ready to end the battle.”

Elena contemplated as she nodded, having only heard of two black sorcerers since she arrived in Aegea. Illano’s Knight of Broken Brambles was a warrior who led a powerful assault, but Romulo’s Typhoon Paladin had repeatedly proven itself as an incredible threat. Both black-monolith sorcerers had demonstrated themselves as forceful attackers and agile movers. They both could sustain a heavy strike without crumbling. Seeing the logic in Altair’s explanation, Elena nodded excitedly and stared upon the black monolith. But when she set her hand upon it, she felt a soothing sensation like static electricity. She almost felt like she could detect a gentle vibration from the monolith, even though she had only ever seen it manifest the Typhoon Paladin. She smiled as she recalled the many times when Romulo had used that same sorcerer to save himself—even when he fought against her.

Altair reached next for the green monolith and said, “Green sorcerers tend to be weaker, but it’s not a universal rule or anything like that. Some are fast, some are slow. Some are hardy, others crumble in a single hit. But for some inexplicable reason, they all seem to help support the other sorcerers around them. Take Romulo’s favorite greens, for instance. His Dancing Wind Priestess would race across the battlefield and support his other sorcerers, whether in battle or just bringing them spell cards. Hell, his Quicksand Carrier would even carry his other sorcerers anywhere they needed to go. Some help protect their allies from curses or support their magic. Some will materialize the very spell their allies need. They go about it in different ways, but it is statistically impossible that this pattern is mere conjecture. Make sure you keep that in mind as you move forward.”

Elena nodded slowly as she stared upon the green monolith in Altair’s hand, envisioning the two green sorcerers that she had seen Romulo manifest in the past. Even Adder’s Faithful Forger of Fountains supported his strategy, enchanting the ground to build his ethereal glow. Elena showed a small smile as she considered that it was now up to her to use his weapons correctly.

But when she shook herself free from her contemplation, Elena realized that Altair glared at the red monolith with an unwavering stare; he suppressed a faint tremor which coursed through his body. Elena could see a profound sadness in Altair’s eyes as he grabbed his fallen friend’s red monolith. He took a deep breath as he prepared to speak, and he stood up from the picnic table with the stone still in his hand.

Altair explained, “The red-monolith sorcerers are hard to categorize as they defy a simple pattern. They all seem to do wildly different things, but they serve a similar purpose. They’re problem solvers. They serve primarily to carry you out of a hopeless situation, or to tip the scales in your favor when you need them most. Many conjurors strive to access as many red sorcerers as possible… ‘cause with a wide enough toolbox, you can get yourself out of any situation. I think that’s the idea. Of course, ol’ Romulo went another way with it. Instead of having seven sorcerers to handle seven situations, he only ever used one—a sorcerer with the power to steal the spell to save him. To tell you the truth, I disagree with that approach for more than just the obvious reason. But at the end of the day, he was loyal to the sorcerer he loved most. I’m sure you’ve seen-”

“Yes, I’ve seen it; I’ve seen him many times. The Rogue of Broken Justice. Romulo’s favorite. He always used it when he was in a jam. Although… it’s probably not normal to save the red for last, is it?” asked Elena.

Altair smiled and shook his head. After he set the red monolith back down onto the picnic table, Altair answered, “Now you’re getting it. Most people find that it’s too late for the red sorcerer to save them if they save it for last. Of course, there are other reasons as well. In the matches I’ve fought and watched, I can say with statistical significance that the red sorcerer is transformed more than any other. Usually this happens when… oh. That word doesn’t mean anything to you, does it? Elena, do you know about the Scroll of Transformation?”

Elena tilted her head and answered, “It sounds familiar, like an echo or a faded dream. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what it does.”

“I cannot say I understand the mechanics of it. In some ways it seems to violate the laws of thermodynamics, and I’ve only seen its magic wielded by exceptional conjurors—not ordinary soldiers. While sorcerers generally cast magic through which we do battle, we as conjurors are usually limited. All we can do is manifest or compel our sorcerers and hope for the best. It’s no surprise you haven’t seen it, but a strong conjuror can also materialize the Scroll of Transformation. It takes a toll on your stamina of course, but it doesn’t matter as most soldiers here can’t do it in the first place,” Altair explained.

“Okay, that’s pretty awesome! I want to do that, I wanna learn how! But… I still don’t know what it does, you know?”

Altair smiled and nodded as he took a deep breath. He set his hand into her pile of spell cards on the bench and slowly fanned them out. She stared at his prosthetic arm as it swept across her cards. He could practically sense her curiosity even from a distance, and she realized Altair enjoyed this explanation. While he had been distant and conceited every other time they spoke, he seemed to be easygoing when he had the chance to educate.

Altair finally answered, “Have you ever conjured the wrong sorcerer by mistake? Or you got in a situation where you wished it was someone else? Let’s say your sorcerer exhausted all its magic or becomes too tired to attack. What if you could rejuvenate it with the strength of another? You could command a powerful onslaught with a spell like that. Once you become powerful enough to wield the Scroll of Transformation, you will have the power to transform one sorcerer into another… as long as it’s the same color.”

Elena widened her brown eyes and asked with wonder, “How do I get the power to do that?”

Altair gazed at the monastery and answered, “By becoming a stronger conjuror. There’s no secret trick to it; you don’t gain it when you’re desperate. Emotional. Calculating. There’s no formula that just spits this weapon into your hand, or if there is, it’s not one that I’ve found. All you can do is practice, and as long as the monks believe that you want to protect the innocent, they will train you. What is your stance on prevarication? Are you willing to lie for a little taste of power?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to protect the innocent… I would rather them be safe in a perfect world. But it’s like you said. I don’t belong in this world. I don’t belong anywhere. There was one thing I cared about here, and Adder Neonia took it away. I don’t care who he is in my dreams. I’ll do anything it takes to bring him down.”